


Out Loud

by arysa13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, Fluff, Humor, adversaries to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 13:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17850128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: Clarke is really into quidditch, but since she sucks at playing, she's forced to announce the matches at Hogwarts instead. Except she kind of keeps going off on tangents about how hot the Gryffindor captain is.





	Out Loud

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt: 2. i’m a quidditch player, and you’re the announcer, and i am trying really hard not to notice that your comments about me are becoming less and less about how i’m playing, and more and more about how i look in my quidditch uniform

Clarke isn’t allowed to commentate Slytherin quidditch matches anymore, on account of how Professor Jaha says she’s too biased. Clarke is still of the opinion that it’s the umpire that’s biased, and not her, but she handles her ban reasonably well, considering she only got to announce for three matches before it happened. Only Professor Diyoza, head of Slytherin, realises that Clarke was the one to curse the Ravenclaws’ brooms so they release green smoke when used.

“If only you would put your talent into something useful, Clarke,” Diyoza sighs. She takes 5 points from Slytherin, but she doesn’t tell anyone else about what Clarke did.

Clarke’s ban doesn’t extend to commentating the other matches, though she is on probation. She swears to herself she’ll be on her best behaviour when commentating the upcoming Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff match. Well, to the best of her ability. The problem is, her mouth kind of runs away with her while she’s announcing. The filter that’s normally there in everyday conversations disappears, and whatever comes into her head pops out. She needs to get a handle on it though. If they ban her completely, she’ll have to just watch the match with the rest of the plebs.

See, the thing is, Clarke loves quidditch. She goes to the World Cup with her dad every year, and she’s always arguing with someone or other about who the best players are, who has the best strategy or who’s going to win. She goes to all the Slytherin training sessions, even though she’s not on the team. Her classmates are careful not to bring up quidditch in front of her, because they know it will just set her off and they won’t be able to shut her up about it for at least an hour. In fourth year, she was caught taking bets on the school tournament. They almost banned her from quidditch entirely then and there.

Despite her love of quidditch, Clarke can’t play for shit, and it’s always irked her to no end. It’s her only failing, as far as she is concerned. She just doesn’t have the coordination or something. She tried out for the Slytherin team her first five years at Hogwarts, for every position. Not agile enough to be a chaser or a keeper. Not enough power to be a beater. Not swift enough to be a seeker. So now they let her commentate.

“Remember you’re on probation, Clarke,” Professor Jaha tells her as she takes her place in the commentator’s box. “I’ll be right here making sure you don’t say anything you shouldn’t say.”

“Yes, professor,” Clarke sighs. She turns her attention to the stands, full of students wearing house colours and waving banners. They’re already cheering and screaming, though the players aren’t even on the field yet. Clarke gets her wand out, silently casting the amplifying charm to project her voice over the stadium.

“Welcome back everyone!” she says. “I’m Clarke Griffin and I’ll be commentating this match. Yes, that’s right I’m still here, even after Raven Reyes tried to get me banned after my commentary on the last match.”

“Clarke!” Jaha scolds. She gives him a sheepish look. She turns her attention back to the pitch as the players fly out and the crowd cheers even louder.

“Today’s match is Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff! The winner of this match will play Slytherin in the final. Gryffindor have been playing a little too well this year so let’s hope Hufflepuff wins this one. Although I, am of course, completely unbiased.” Clarke glances at Jaha to see him rolling his eyes. The players take their places around the centre ring. “Today’s umpire is Professor Pike of Ravenclaw.”

Pike stands in the centre ring and releases the bludgers and snitch from their wooden case. He picks up the quaffle and throws it into the air, blowing his whistle as he does so.

“And we’re off! Finn Collins, Hufflepuff chaser, and two-timing bastard—”

“Clarke!”

“Sorry, professor. Collins has the quaffle. He dodges a bludger, struck by Octavia Blake. He passes off to Harper McIntyre, who shoots for a goal and—it’s nicely defended by Gryffindor captain, Bellamy Blake. Side note—did the Gryffindors get new uniforms? I’m sure Blake didn’t look that good last match. Like he looked _good,_ but the way he fills out that new uniform is something else. Okay, he’s passing the quaffle to Zoe Monroe, who skirts around Collins, heading straight for the goals.”

“Clarke, keep your commentary on the _game_ please!” Jaha scolds.

“I am! Ooh! Kyle Wick just hit a bludger right at Monroe! She managed not to get hit but she dropped the quaffle and now it’s in the hands of that dirtbag Finn Collins again. Personally, I think he should be banned from the team, because if he cheats on women, who’s to say he doesn’t cheat at quidditch?”

“Clarke! This is your last warning!”

“Collins passes to Gina Martin. She’s squared up against Blake, ready to take a shot at goal. This is awkward, they used to date.”

“Clarke…”

“It’s relevant information, professor! I’m just giving context! It’s not like I’m speculating on why they broke up. Although I think it’s because they had zero chemistry. Watching them kiss made me want to barf. She’s going for it and… Blake dives for it, giving us a glimpse of those magnificent abs. Ooh, he misses, but at least he looked good doing it. Ten points for Hufflepuff!”

The crowd erupts into cheers from everyone but the Gryffindors themselves.

“Ooh, Blake does not look happy about that!” Clarke says. His scowl only grows as Clarke says the words. Bellamy fetches the quaffle and throws it back into play forcefully.

“Monroe has the quaffle again. She passes to Wells Jaha. He’s really improved in the last year—he’s flying down the field. No one can stop him now! He’s going for goal—it flies right past Lincoln, the Hufflepuff keeper, and we are tied at ten all!”

Lincoln wastes no time putting the quaffle back into play, and in thirty seconds it’s back at the Hufflepuff goal end.

“It’s Harper shooting for goal again—and Blake’s defence is flawless. Harper needs to up her game if she’s going to get it past Blake. Ooh, a well place bludger by Echo as Blake tries to pass the quaffle off to Monroe. It’s missed him, thankfully—wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face—but he’s dropped the quaffle, and now it’s a race between Monroe and Harper to see who can get there first. And it’s Harper! Can she make the shot this time? She hasn’t been able to so far, maybe she’s distracted by Blake’s arm muscles. Seriously, they got new uniforms, right? Or did someone put a shrinking hex on his? Because that thing is so tight is almost indecent, and it can’t be just me having indecent thoughts right now… Ooh! He grabs the quaffle, but he fumbles it a little. It’s okay, doesn’t make him any less of a great quidditch player. They all have a little fumble now and then. I’ll tell you what, I’d let him fumble around my—”

Her wand is snatched out of her hand before she can finish. She whips her head around to see Jaha glaring at her.

“That’s enough, Clarke.”

“What did I say?” she whines.

“Well, I wrote it all down and I’ll be sending it to your head of house. Get back to the Slytherin common room now. Diyoza will deal with you later.”

“But I want to watch the rest of the match!”

“Now, Clarke.” He hands Clarke her wand back, and Clarke takes it from him, reluctantly descending the stand. By the time she reaches the ground, she can already hear Jasper Jordan taking over as announcer. Jaha must have had him on standby, knowing Clarke would screw up. She scowls. She doesn’t even know what she said wrong! She was just saying what she saw. And now she doesn’t even get to stay and watch the end of the match. It’s so unfair.

 

-

 

Clarke slouches in the chair across the desk from Professor Diyoza, her expression sour. After the match, Diyoza had called Clarke straight to her office.

“I really thought you learned your lesson after last time,” Diyoza says. “You’re normally so careful with what you say. I don’t understand.”

“I guess quidditch just gets me all riled up,” Clarke shrugs. “I can’t help it. I don’t even know what I said that was so bad.”

Diyoza pulls out a piece of parchment. “Jaha made sure I got this exact dictation of what you said.” She looks down to the parchment. “First you called Finn Collins a two-timing bastard, and also a cheater and a dirtbag.”

“He is though.”

“Not related to quidditch.”

Clarke huffs. “What else?”

“Most of the other stuff is just you going on about how hot you think Bellamy Blake is.”

“I did not say that.”

Diyoza eyes her with amusement. She reads directly from the page. “ _The way he fills out that new uniform is something else. Blake dives for it, giving us a glimpse of those magnificent abs. He misses, but at least he looked good doing it. It’s missed him, thankfully, wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face. It can’t be just me having indecent thoughts right now_ —”

“Okay!” Clarke interrupts. Her face is flaming. “I’ve heard enough.” She can hardly believe she said all that out loud. She can tell Diyoza is laughing at her, even if she isn’t _actually_ laughing. “So, what’s my punishment then?”

“To be honest, I think it’s punishment enough that the entire school now knows you have a thing for the Gryffindor quidditch captain. That’s pretty embarrassing, right?”

Clarke scowls. “Shut up,” she mutters.

“Do you speak to all your professors like that?” Diyoza asks, rolling her eyes.

“Am I being punished or not?”

“Yeah, twenty points from Slytherin. And you’re banned from announcing all future matches.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t sulk, Clarke. I doubt Gryffindor’s resident golden boy will find that attractive. They won, by the way.”

“You’re the worst house leader ever,” Clarke says, mostly trying to disguise the fact that she’s blushing again. She gets up and stalks out of the office, Diyoza’s laughter trailing after her.

On her way back to the Slytherin common room, she spots Bellamy coming towards her and quickly changes direction. He’s the last person she wants to see right now. Unfortunately, the hallway is empty apart from the two of them, and he sees her before she can escape.

“Hey, Griffin!” he yells. Clarke stops, squeezing her eyes shut. Her face is hot already, and she hopes it doesn’t look as red as it feels. She turns to face him, trying to muster up some semblance of nonchalance.

“Bellamy,” she says. “What’s up?”

“What the hell was that out there?” he says angrily.

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. All the shit you were saying. That was really uncool.”

Clarke cringes. “Sorry I embarrassed you,” she says shortly. “If it makes you feel any better, I totally humiliated myself as well, so there’s that.”

“How exactly did you humiliate yourself?”

“You heard what I said, right?” she snorts. “I kind of admitted to the whole school that I’m into you. Which would be fine if it were _anyone_ else, but no, I have to have a crush on perfect Gryffindor quidditch captain Bellamy Blake. It’s totally ruining my cool Slytherin brand.”

Bellamy is staring at her like she just grew a second head.

“What?” she snaps.

“You’re into me?” he says dumbly. Clarke stares back, confused. He did hear everything she said at the match, right? “I mean—you didn’t just say all that stuff to throw me off my game so we’d lose the match?”

Oh. Oh, that would have been a great cover. Clarke only wishes she’d thought of it herself. And fuck, now she’s blushing again.

“I—” she swallows. “Fuck.” Her eyes drop to her feet, unable to look at his deep brown eyes scrutinising her. “I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut,” she mutters.

“You’re into me,” he repeats, almost wondrously. He laughs. Clarke looks up, glowering at him.

“No need to laugh at me.”

Bellamy’s wide grin drops, and he quickly turns apologetic. “Oh, no,” he says. “Sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I—uh—” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I’m kind of into you too.”

Clarke gapes at him. “ _What_?”

Bellamy laughs again. “Yeah. It’s really annoying.”

Clarke’s heart soars, and she’s not sure she’s doing a great job of keeping the goofy grin from her face. “I bet I’m more annoyed about it that you are.”

“No way. My crush on you is way more inconvenient. Your stupid sexy voice always distracts me from quidditch. Today was especially bad. It’s like… my brain was sure you were saying all that stuff just to put me off, but my dumbass heart got all worked up because it wanted you to mean it.”

“Well, you’ll be happy to know I got banned from announcing any further matches.”

“It was probably because of the part where you said you wanted me to fumble around your—what was it? You never finished that sentence.”

“Oh my god,” Clarke groans. “I’m so embarrassing. This ban is probably for the best.”

Bellamy eyes her, smile playing on his lips. God, she feels like she could melt into a heap under his gaze. Her heart is beating so fast she thinks it’s going to burst out of her chest.

“Clarke?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” Clarke nods, and then Bellamy is closing the gap between them, taking her face in his hands and pressing his lips against hers, so gently Clarke thinks she might be imagining the whole thing. She deepens the kiss, opening her mouth for him, letting her tongue brush against his. Her whole body lights up for him. He groans softly, then pulls back. Clarke opens her eyes to his. Goosebumps cover her skin.

“Everyone is going to make fun of us for this,” Clarke says.

“No one would dare,” Bellamy laughs. “Everyone knows you can hex anyone and get away with it. Like what you did with the Ravenclaws’ brooms.”

“You know that was me?”

“Everyone knows. Mostly because I figured it was you and I was so impressed I told everyone. But I made it seem like I thought it was a stupid thing to do.”

Clarke smiles. “You think I’m impressive?”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“I’m going to tell everyone. Especially Diyoza.”

Bellamy shakes his head, confused but endeared. “Okay? Weird, but okay.”

“So, do you want to like… date me?”

Bellamy grins. “Yeah, I want to date you. If you’re not too concerned about your _cool Slytherin brand_. Which, for the record, you don’t have.”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

“Gladly.”


End file.
